The Biggest Delicacy
by Neferit
Summary: After some time, they just need some time alone. And so he plans a week off for them. Who would have guessed that planning all the details can be so hard sometimes?


**A/N:** And once again, anon over at DAO kmeme said:

_Would love to see Warden and LI spending a quiet evening alone where one cooks dinner for the other. No pairing preference - have fun!  
>+ 1 Million approval if it's a guy cooking for a girl and he ends up ripping off his apron before ravishing her.<br>(don't know what it is about a guy in an apron but DAMN it gets my motor running!)__._

And this one said: _Yay!_ And then it was: _damn, how comes that it always takes me forever to finish my DAO kmeme prompts?_

**Disclaimer:** I own (or won) nothing, only this fan fiction is completely my own fault. But seriously – why are all the good guys made from pixels?

* * *

><p>The several last months were the best, yet the worst months of their life together.<p>

Yes, with the greatest finality they expressed their love for each other and basked in its glow; as their friends liked to point out, it was as if they were illuminated by some inner light. And if they ever heard anything through the door of their bedroom, they showed great tact and never said anything about that to Amélie and Teagan.

But every good thing has a bad side. For this it was great crisis which fell over the arling; attacking groups of wolves, number of bandits appearing seemingly out of nowhere, even some Darkspawn appeared – and usually it was in the middle of the night, when they finally sated their desire for each other, both being pleasantly lulled to sleep, only to be roused up and sent somewhere to deal with the problems. Not to mention they had to be constantly alert to what their son, Roland, was doing, as they wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, only rarely leaving him completely in care of his nanny.

And Maker, after those months they were both just so very _tired_.

He could see it in her eyes, now almost permanently dimmed by exhaustion, in the slump of her shoulders. And the way they just fall asleep in each other's arms as soon as their heads hit the pillows, instead after making love like they used to. To say that they are both rather discontent with the situation would not be precise enough. But try to make tender love when you are almost literally falling on your face with exhaustion.

Finally he had enough. After several weeks of relative peace – the last remnants of bandits or Darkspawn were finally dealt with and they managed to get sleep for the whole night several times, he decided it was time for them to have some time only for themselves and secretly started to make the preparations.

Three Steps Plan:

_Step No. 1 - find suitable place and prepare it_

_Step No. 2 - bring enough supplies_

_Step No. 3 - spend some quality time there_

Scratching his nose with the quill in his hand he frowned. When written like this, it just sounded so dry and definitely unromantic. Ne needed more specifics. Well, he needed to plan every single detail. By writing specifics he will at least find the things which wouldn't be overly good and try to make them nice. _'Now, you better start to write the idea down, otherwise you'll forget it…'_

_Step No. 1 – find suitable place and prepare it for the occasion._

_Suitable is:_

_- With a fireplace _

_- Preferably with bearskin_

_- With no one interrupting our privacy there_

_By preparing is meant:_

_- Strategically placed candles around the place_

_- Prepare everything to be in reach_

As he wrote it down, he got the idea of the best place possible. Nice, cosy cabin in the mountains. In past he used it when he needed some time alone. Now it will be used for _their_ time alone.

_Step No. 2 – bring enough supplies_

_Meaning lots of:_

_- Chocolate_

_- Fruit_

_- Cream_

_- Wine – preferably some Highever vintage_

_Some other food she likes_

With someone like Amélie, who was always driven by the famed Grey Warden appetite, this could prove a little difficult, he thought. Then again, they can always go hunting – and spend even more time together, enjoying themselves. Although she mainly used swords for fighting, she was also quite capable archer.

_Step No.3 – spend some quality time there_

_- romance_

- '_quality' time_

_- for_

Maker, did he really started write specifics about how to spend some quality time with Amélie? Looking over his shoulder he checked if she's still asleep. Thankfully, she was. Carefully folding the parchment and hiding it, he went over to join his wife under the covers. She had half-woken when the bed creaked under his weight, raising her head to look over her shoulder.

"Don't mind me," he whispered to her, as he leaned to kiss her, "just return to sleep." She managed to nod, snuggling close to him, already asleep again. Stopping only to gather her more comfortable into his arms, he followed her into the Fade.

Maker willing, soon they will be completely alone and well rested. Soon…

Next day he woke up sooner than Amélie and decided to use it to make some progress with his plan. Calling several of the servants, he sent them to the cabin to clean it and overall prepare it for using. Feeling better already, he went to the people who were going to help him with the step no. 2 – the supplies.

The cooks were overjoyed when he explained them his plan, happy they were asked for help.

"Of course we will help!"

"What to prepare?"

"It saddens me heart that young ma'am is so tired, m'lord," said one of the older cooks. "We sure prepare the best food she ever ate," she promised, the rest of the kitchen stuff nodding vigorously. They made him breakfast, already whispering about the food they were going to prepare, not paying him much attention then. He felt himself smiling. When he took over the arling, he was worried Isolde made the servants into disliking the new Arl and Arlessa, only to find out the servants sort of… disliked the previous mistress and eagerly waited for the new one. _'Just like the servants at Rainesferre,'_ he thought. _'They didn't know her – and loved her even before she stepped on the Rainesferre ground. Although… it didn't take much to dislike Isolde, eh…'_ The plan was going well and would be complete in several days. He was looking forward to it.

When he entered their bedroom, tray with breakfast in his hands, he found she was still fast asleep. Hiding a smile, he left the tray on the table and went to wake her. She was so cute when she burrowed her head into the pillows and mumbled "five more minutes!"

"Wake up, darling," he said, nuzzling his face against her bare shoulder, "I've brought you breakfast and then we are supposed to take the horse ride we talked about, remember?"

Her answering groan was enough of a reply to him. Raising her head from the pillow, she gave him a slow smile; the smile she usually gave him when she was about to do something naughty. Before he knew it, he was laying on his back with her straddling his waist. Giving him another lazy smile, she leaned down to whisper in his ear: "Now, _that_ is a ride I would prefer now…"

Not that he minded that, not at all. But just before the things could go steamy, one of the servants knocked on the door. "My lord, my lady, your horses are prepared!"

'_Ah, crap.'_

With a slightly guilty grin Amélie released Teagan and left the bed, giggling like a little girl. But seriously – they really need some time alone. Then they will indulge in the _ride_ as much as they'll please, he thought with a grin.

Carefully, he continued ordering the servants to help him in the plan throughout the next several days. Phase one was almost finished, just as was the phase two. When Amélie was slumbering in bed already one evening, he picked a piece of parchment to note his progress.

Done, Doing, To Be Done:

DONE:

- cabin cleaned

- food taken care of

DOING:

- bringing more supplies

TO BE DONE:

- decorate the place to look more romantic

- learn at least the basics how to cook

Tomorrow he's going to ask the cooks to teach him. But until then, he will revel in her closeness and warmth.

**o.O.o**

"You sure you want to know how to do that, m'lord?" asked Rita, the cook, when he managed to burn another batch of buttered eggs. Gritting his teeth he nodded. Damn, if he knew that even this was so hard to make, he would definitely reconsider it. But now… well, it would just seem like cowardice to do so. Five batches of burnt buttered eggs later he finally made it correctly, feeling like the best cook in the whole world.

"And tomorrow we're going to teach you how to make at least the basic desserts," said one of the cooks, an eagerly looking young elven man. Something was telling him that he probably was going to get more than he bargained for. Yet… you never know when you're going to need to know how to prepare desserts, yes?

Re-decorating the cottage was also a bit of a problem. Candles and flowers were a rather easy to place – but what else? What about the bearskin lying in front of the fireplace? Oh yes. But what else to adjust his sudden romantic needs? There was still bed in need of linens, table needing a tablecloth – which colours, which pattern to choose? And what the hell do the women consider romantic, anyway?

**o.O.o**

"Teagan? Do I really have to be blindfolded?"

"Yes, my dear," calmed Teagan his somehow nervous wife. "If you weren't, you would spoil the surprise I have prepared for you – and we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Amélie just mumbled something incomprehensible and settled back into his arms. They were riding a horse, up the mountains, towards the place where the small cabin was nested under the pines. He felt himself smiling unconsciously. She was really going to be surprised.

"Close your eyes and promise you won't look until I tell you."

'_Well, Teagan better have some important reason for this,'_ thought Amélie when she closed her eyes, feeling the blindfold slide from her eyes, making her almost open her eyes again. Teagan obviously saw that, because she felt one of his hands, _'those strong and dexterous hands,'_ as she thought with butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach, cover her eyes.

"Now, my dear, we will be going a small distance up the mountain. I will lead you and will tell you about any obstruction we won't be able to walk around. Understand?"

Almost against her will she shuddered slightly. This was… arousing in a strange way, to be so helpless and dependent on him, as he led her up the hill, his lips brushing her earlobe every time he leaned in to whisper directions to her. Well, she wasn't exactly a picture of independence during her pregnancy – but those were completely different terms, yes? And hey – did she just smell roasted chicken?

"We are here."

Feeling his hand leaving her eyes, she blinked several times, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light again. She was standing in front of a small house, well, cabin. Smoke coming out of its chimney, the windows open… it looked very nice to her.

"Shall we go inside?" asked Teagan courteously.

She let herself be led into the cabin, her breath hitching in her throat as she saw the inside. The sun was still high – but there was flame dancing merrily in the fireplace, a bearskin lying in front on it. Knowing how nervous she was in places without any weapon in reach, he told the servants to place several swords, daggers and even one shield on the walls, making it look like a decoration – no matter all of it could be used, if needed. There was still one of the servants – the elven man who taught him how to prepare desserts – taking care of the fire, finishing roasting of the chicken she smelt before. As she was still taking in the details, simple bed – with covers embroidered by her, table, chairs, even a small bookcase, the man quickly prepared them a simple meal and finishing what he was doing he disappeared with a quick bow.

The sun was still high on the sky when they had their lunch on the soft grass outside the cabin, feeding each other with bits of chicken and bread, sharing bottle of wine, talking and laughing. Again and again he realized how beautiful his wife is, when she made a wreath from the flowers he picked for her and handed them to her one by one. They spent the rest of the afternoon by chasing each other around the meadow, both laughing and feeling more carefree than they felt in a very long time.

When she fell asleep against him while they watched the sunset, he found out he was not disappointed by it at all. Carrying her inside the cabin, he carefully took off her outer clothes and laid her on the bed. Stripping from his own clothes he quickly joined her. He felt tired – but pleasantly so, and with her sleeping in his arms he let his mind wander.

Before the sleep claimed him, he thought: _'Well, now I just have to show off the teachings of our cooks…'_

**o.O.o**

Next day Amélie woke up to the smell of something very good being burnt to coal. Almost jumping from the bed she heard Teagan's swearing. "Curse you, you damn eggs. If Maker…"

Then she saw him there, standing by the fire, a frying pan with something unrecognizable and smoking in it in hand, cursing in a way which made Amélie whistle. Well, that was definitely awkward.

Laughing softly, she went over the windows, opening them to get the smell of burn out. "Just what did those eggs do to you that you burnt them to death?" she asked teasingly, watching him squirm uncomfortably. _'If at least _she_ couldn't cook as well,'_ he thought as he watched her clean the pan and taking new eggs. _'At least I wouldn't have to feel so stupid…'_

Amélie's voice brought him back from thoughts. He was so thinking so deeply that he obviously wasn't paying attention for quite some time, according to her stance. "Just what do you think you are pouting at, kind ser?" she asked in a voice full of mischief. "I'm going to teach you how to cook this. So, if you would be so kind…" she let her voice drop, motioning for him to come closer to the fireplace.

Rather reluctantly he went over. Somehow, she managed to find one of his old aprons he always used when he was cutting meat of previously killed animal, and now was tying it behind his back. She was so close that he wanted to forgot about the eggs and do something completely different – yet after turning his head and seeing the focused pout of her lips he felt himself yielding to whatever she wanted him to do. Once the apron was in place, she pressed herself against his back, resting her chin on his shoulder – she had to stand on her tiptoes to do that - her hands sneaking around him to lead his own around the handle of the pan.

Her breath caressed his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "First, you have to start to warm the pan slowly, so the eggs won't burn immediately. Like this, you see?"

Only half-listening he nodded, putting on a focused mask while his mind was occupied by completely different thoughts. Amélie's fingers caressed his hands when she explained in hushed tones the mysteries of cooking to him.

"… and now you have to keep on stirring it, so it will be done properly, no raw eggs…"

He was almost praying for the eggs be finished now, the previous hunger completely forgotten. He was wearing his pants and the apron – but she was wearing only thin underwear. And although she seemed to be focused on the buttered eggs now, he could feel her nipples through the cloth of her breast band and it was setting him crazy. He wouldn't have noticed the eggs were done, if the warmth of her body hadn't left his back, as she reached for a plate. Absence of her warmth left him feeling cold, and _hungry_.

"Would you handle me the pan, please?" she asked, obviously oblivious of the way she affected him. Wordlessly, he did what she asked of him, helping her prepare the breakfast, his eyes following her every move with attention of a bird of prey. The way her breasts strained against her breast band when she leaned across the table to get more bread. The way her fingers fiddled with the fork, the way she made a small balls from the bread as she thought about something.

Just when he thought about getting to his feet and do something completely different from eating – well, sort of different, now when he thought about it – she rose and laughed. "Oh my, Teagan – we completely forgot about the strawberries the cooks packed for us!"

Right now the only things tasting and smelling after strawberries – or at least _looking_ like strawberries, would be her nipples. Oh those amazing perky nipples, he thought hungrily. He idly wondered, if she even realized the naughtiness of the whole situation; he was still wearing his pants and the apron he completely forgot to get rid off and she running around only in her panties and the breast band. Not to mention that sway of her hips. She just had to do that on purpose, there was no chance of it being completely natural. Not only had she teased him with opportunities to look into her cleavage – now she also tortured him with that swing of her hips. How comes he never noticed it when she was wearing dress?

And then she stood in front of him, holding a strawberry covered in cream to his lips, smiling at him sweetly.

'_Now is your time to tease her back,'_ he thought. Lifting his hand, he held hers in place, while his lips closed around the strawberry in her fingers. Her eyes widened in surprise, light blush colouring her cheeks. He could swear he heard her breath hitch in her throat a bit when he sucked at her fingers, licking the remnants of the cream from them.

"Delicious," was all he said, still holding her now slightly trembling hand. Gesturing to his lap he asked: "My dear, why don't you… sit down?"

Almost too eagerly she seated herself on his lap, wiggling her bottom a little, trying to find the best position, causing him to grit his teeth, as the motion shot a lighting of desire down to his loins. Forcing his attention back to the strawberries on the plate she brought, he dipped one in the cream and held it to her lips, watching closely how her lips closed around the strawberry and how her eyes closed in delight, as she chewed on the fruit. When she gulped the strawberry down, she opened her eyes, giving him a slow smile – as well as a butterfly-like kiss on lips.

And after sixth strawberry he had quite enough of her teasing. So the seventh strawberry, covered in suave cream, wasn't carried to her lips – much to her surprise. Instead, he wiped the cream on the soft skin on her neck, quickly following the line with his mouth. Once again, her breath hitched in her throat, as he teased the small place of her pulse with his tongue.

"I told you not to tease me," he mumbled against her skin. "Yet you insist on doing that."

"When the punishment happens to be so enjoyable, it's only normal that the crime repeats itself," she purred, her hands slowly sneaking behind his back to untie the apron he still wore. He could consider himself lucky she was so hungry before, when they were still making breakfast, otherwise she would rip it off of him and have her way with him, she thought. Who would have thought that a man in an apron would be such a turn on?

Teagan felt her hands reaching after the knot – but as it was usually him who had to undress her from some terribly complicated dress, he decided to leave it completely to her, while he kept her unfocused with his kisses. It felt fitting for her to struggle to untie the laces she tied herself in the first place. Although he was starting to have pretty hard time to focus himself with all that squirming in his lap she was doing, he was still determined to not to give up too soon.

Finally her fingers untied the knot. She almost jumped out of his embrace, standing before him, her chest heaving, eyes alit with excitement. "Off with the apron," was all she said, gazing at him expectantly.

"And what will I get in return?" he asked huskily. With a slow smile she unwrapped her breast band, throwing it aside, then looking at him, waiting. Standing slowly, with equal slowness he started to take the apron off. He was aware of her eyes on him. He was very much aware of his pants being very, very tight – and he was aware of the blush that coloured not only Amélie's cheeks – but spread from her chest up her cheeks.

Suddenly, the apron has been ripped from his hands, his arms full of Amélie clinging to him, as she pushed him towards the table. Growling into their kiss, he flipped them around and sat Amélie on the table, standing between her legs, his hands resting lightly on her tights, paying absolutely no attention to the sounds of breaking glass, while her hands slid lower to unlace the laces of his pants to feel his already hard length. She rubbed her pelvis against him invitingly, earning herself another growl. His lips left hers to travel lower, teasingly nibbling the flesh of her neck, as one of his hands slid up her thigh to caress her through the fabric of her panties, to find her already wet with desire. Moving his mouth higher to her ear he whispered: "I should leave you like that, you saucy little minx."

Part of her got really startled by that. She liked to tease him, most of all when it wasn't all that possible to get some time together. But then she felt the fabric of her panties being pushed away only so slightly and then his fingers entered her in one swift move. His hot breath caressed her ear once more: "So what do you think I should do?"

Her only answer was a breathy moan and bucking of her hips against his hand. She was already well on her way to her climax – while he just started with what he had planned for her. Before she knew what he was doing, he had her lying on the table, placing teasing kisses all around her body, there to lay a kiss one her clavicle, only to slid lower and run his tongue around her nipple.

"You, my dear," he whispered against her skin, "you're the one thing I can never get enough of. The biggest delicacy of all…"

His fingers, his mouth, _he_, was driving her insane with want. Just when she was on the very edge of the brink which would show her the stars, he withdrew his fingers. She gave a frustrated cry when one of his sneaked around her torso, moving her into sitting position. And that was when he finally entered her and stood still for a moment, just savouring the feel of being united with her.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, hugging him close. "I didn't even realize you got out of these pants of yours," she said, raising her head to look at him through her eyelashes. He gave her a cheeky grin. "Getting them completely off would take too much work. This," he said, moving his hips a little, making her stifle a moan, "needs me only partially out of my pants, wouldn't you say?"

They always made love completely naked. This being still dressed in some articles of their clothing, while the said articles of clothing were still mostly covering their bodies, moved aside only in the way necessary for their bodies joining… that turned her on more that she thought possible at the moment. When they started moving, slowly at first, she could feel the hem of her panties rub over her clit in just the right way which, together with him moving restlessly in and out of her core, sent her on the way towards the stars very quickly.

Teagan watched her reactions to their love making. Her breathing was quick, her back arching as her head lolled back, exposing the slope of her neck to him. And she was making the most arousing sounds, when he sucked on her skin. Her legs were wrapped around his hips, not allowing him to pull out, forcing him to do short and quick thrusts. The release was coming closer with speed of light.

She hit the peak first, clinging to him as stars danced before her eyes, the colours blinding her for a moment. He made several last thrusts before he felt the all so familiar sensation himself. Leaning on his hands, he pulled out of her warmth and rested his forehead on her shoulder, breathing in her scent, letting his heartbeat slow down to normal. Her hands sneaked up his back, caressing, holding him to her.

"Now," she laughed a bit, "that was definitely something. This was one of your ideas of _'quality time'_ I take it?"

Alarmed, he raised his head to look into her face. She was smiling; her eyes had that mischievous twinkle in them. "You mean you _knew_ about this?"

She nodded sheepishly. "Well… you married a rogue, darling. When you were all of sudden so mysterious and now-I-am-doing-something-you-do-not-know-about, I got jealous at first, then curious and lastly, all rogue-y. After some digging and sneaking around the castle, I've heard two cooks talking about how mushy it is when the Arl starts to make plans for romantic weekend with Arlessa. I have to say that it quite impressed me, when I sneaked to kitchen few days later and found you fighting a pan and a batch of eggs. And in the end, I even found that planning parchment of yours. But," she added gently, "even with all that knowledge you still surprised me."

And here he was, thinking he could actually keep a secret from her. But, if she already knew… "Now… what would you say about more quality time?" he asked with a smirk.

Passionate kiss was the only answer he needed from her. But seriously, now was time for something more… classical.

**o.O.o**

"Hope your week at the cabin was enjoyable?" asked Amélie's _demoiselle_ when they returned to castle, all content smiles and smirks.

Amélie just turned from the vanity on her seat and smirked. "Anita, you have absolutely _no idea_."


End file.
